(S)laughter
The blood on my hands
Fictitious or real
I cannot explain
The things I can feel
The warmth from a life
I've taken away
The sound of my laughter
Rings in this day
The red of the pavement
A beautiful shade
It splatters my hands
As I dig a fresh grave
The knife that I held
Is safely stored
As the heart sits upon
A wood cutting board
Another life taken
From a depressing fate
We'll all die at one point
So why should I wait?
Fictitious or real
I cannot explain
The things I can feel
The warmth from a life
I've taken away
The sound of my laughter
Rings in this day
The red of the pavement
A beautiful shade
It splatters my hands
As I dig a fresh grave
The knife that I held
Is safely stored
As the heart sits upon
A wood cutting board
Another life taken
From a depressing fate
We'll all die at one point
So why should I wait?